The Arcana
by Reizna
Summary: Thou shalt be entrusted with a sacred covenant. Thou shalt take up thy new name and thou wilt be saved. / A glimpse at Class Zero before they took up their new names and how they became who they were during the war with Milites.
1. The Fool

_The moment man devoured the fruit of knowledge, he sealed his fate._

_Entrusting his future to the cards, man clings to a dim hope. _

_Yes, the arcana is the means by which all is revealed._

**0. The Fool **

* * *

><p><strong>Ace<strong>

Clothed in the proper uniform, Christopher Regis took his first step into Rubrum Peristylium Suzaku Magic Academy. His messenger bag was heavy at his side. And in his chest, his heart was heavy. By all means, he shouldn't even be there. In the name of all the fal'Cie of Oriense, Christopher shouldn't be attending secondary school there of all places, but that was his only option.

His bright hazel eyes stared into the grounds before and traced the crystal tower at the heart of campus. His gaze softened as he recalled why he was there. It was for his mother.

His father, Canaan Regis, was dead. His last will and testament had been read. And his only son was meant to receive the inheritance, but the Regis family simply refused to hand over the money. It didn't help that the Regis family did not like Christopher or Christopher's mother.

He curled his hands into fists upon remembering their reasoning. Christopher's mother was a commoner without an ounce of blue blood in her veins. Canaan Regis, his father, had been a Viscount but he had renounced his title for love. And they were happy. The three of them were genuinely happy until a sudden illness claimed his father.

And to seize what his father left him, young Christopher was forced to enroll in Peristylium Suzaku, be the top of the class, to join the military and serve like his father did once, etc – to prove that he truly was a Regis. In all honesty, it was a stupid condition, but his mother Erica urged him to do it. They had nothing else. And Christopher knew his mother was hiding the fact they were in the deep end. She wouldn't tell him, but he knew. He always knew.

Christopher knew because he would hear her cry about it when he was supposed to be asleep. So he never asked for anything.

And that was why he was there. To help his mother. To protect her. To get his inheritance. To prove that he was of the Regis family. To be part of the decorated legacy. But mostly, he wanted to help his mother.

* * *

><p><strong>Deuce<strong>

Just like her late mother, Siera Stadtfeld always had a musical ability to affect a person's mood – either bringing down a person so low, spiraling into a depression; or pumping up a person into a mania; or even lulling a person into a hypnotic sleep for a full day's cycle. It was always said that music affects the soul. Siera was an embodiment of that statement.

Her papa and town mayor, Lloyd Stadtfeld, – when discovering his daughter's gift – often joked that her mother Leia Stadtfeld was a descendant of a legendary songstress from the old Oriense myths. Siera pulled her lips into a frown. Her papa was silly. Songstresses sang. She merely played an instrument, a simple flute. She was different. Siera did not need to use her voice.

When she found herself before the Rubrum Peristylium, she felt her father press a kiss to her cheek. He was proud of her, but yet scared for her. They had talked about this the night before. He was afraid for her life, but she reassured him that she would never be in the front lines.

They would never send a 'bard' to the frontlines.

How wrong she was.

* * *

><p><strong>Trey<strong>

William Mariae knew his favorite weapons were _archaic_, but it hardly mattered. War lingered on the horizon. They needed everyone they could get. And he did not want to disappoint his military family with their medals of honor and what not anymore than he already did.

All that mattered was that he was good with it. He'd been training, mastering his technique for years. It was too late for him to switch weapons now.

Etro, even his mother agreed with her military in-laws. And on any _normal_ day, his mother Kateryn Stark-Mariae hated her in-laws. By all the fal'cies, he had to have a military family who disapproved everything he did, but despite that, William was strong.

He learned to get back up onto his feet every time they beat him down.

Donning his new uniform, he held that lesson to heart. Should they ever make fun of him, he would ignore it and then snipe them down with his arrows.

* * *

><p><strong>Cater<strong>

She was bound to get involved in the war anyway. With her mother Victoria in the Guardian Corps, and a refugee father, Anthony from Byakko, Amber Seras knew this would be coming for a long time. She had done gymnastics since she was three. When she started primary school, she had taken up archery when her peers took up track, T-ball or swimming.

And it was in late middle school when her Guardian Corps officer of a mother decided to train her in firearms, seeing that archery was rather _archaic_. Much to her father's dismay, Amber was _very_ good at it. For her talent with firearms, she had been scouted for the Peristylium Suzaku.

With a war on the horizon and her father's paranoia, her parents relented. They were in a consensus. As of then, the Peristylium would be the safest place for her, which was true. The Rubrum Crystal would keep her safe.

Or Amber hoped.

She walked through the threshold and waved goodbye to her parents, smiling sadly. They were so worried about her. She could sense it. It was the calm before the storm. She and everyone else within these Peristylium walls would be dragged into the fighting. She _had_ to be ready for it when the time came.

Amber took in a deep breath. No, that second-guessing attitude would get her killed. Her parents would not want them.

She _knew_ that she would be ready.

* * *

><p><strong>Cinque<strong>

Stephanie Joachim happened to be a violent child as she grew up. Her mother Juli Joachim had to tear her daughter away from her school bully, who made fun of her for not having a father. Without a father figure to control her, her temper raged.

Her father, Victor Joachim, was a famed war veteran. He died during a small skirmish with the Milites Empire prior her birth. Nothing much could be said about Stephanie, except for her violent tendencies and need for anger management. When she wasn't angered, she was a perfectly normal girl, but not today.

When she had arrived at the academy, she had to break away from his mother's embrace. Yes, she had loved her mother, but she wanted her father there. She blamed Milites for his death and walked into the Peristylium with an oath.

She would become strong and eventually, get revenge. She would kill the one who killed her father, causing her mother and herself to suffer so. Stephanie had sworn on the names of all the fal'Cies and even on Etro's.

She curled her fists and gritted her teeth as anger surged through her. That was her reason for coming.

* * *

><p><strong>Sice<strong>

Iris Midna was the seventh daughter of the seventh daughter, a terrible omen from ancient legends. Normally, the omen would affect those of the male gender, but the Midna family had terrible luck even in medieval times. As for Iris, she was a child of very few words.

Her family began to think she was born mute. Not only that, but as a child, she would see things – supernatural things and voice them more than a normal child would. And coming from a highly superstitious family, her parents were forced to abandon her, leaving her on the steps to the elementary division of the Peristylium Suzaku for liberal arts in the middle of a rainy night.

She had almost died that night. Or so, the rumors go. Iris had a touch of death, had seen the Lady Etro, and lived – or so, the Headmaster Khalia Chival VI kept telling her. She was a special circumstance, being enrolled in the lower division and jumped straight into the magic academy for secondary school. After all, she had no place to go.

She glanced out her window, hand clutching her scythe. Times were changing. Her next run-in with death would be close. She could feel it and knew that she would see the goddess Etro once more.

* * *

><p><strong>Seven<strong>

Victoria Evers could be called a masochist. How she even came about that word was due to her parentage. Being an illegitimate daughter of a noble lady Maria D'ilya and a servant boy Nikolas Evers, she would be whipped daily by her step-father. She would never inherit her mother's estate, but she kept close to her mother all the same.

Though she was raised in a noble household and given a decent education, it would never erase the fact that she was a bastard child. She had the scars on her back to prove them. And as an final act of love, Lady Maria D'ilya plucked Victoria from his husband's torturous clutches and shipped her to the Peristylium Suzaku, where Victoria would be far away from her step-father.

She could not be touched there.

She would be protected for a price – her own life.

* * *

><p><strong>Eight<strong>

When he had donned his uniform, Henry Winchester knew what he was getting into. He glanced down at his hands, remembering his pact with the spirit of his elder brother. He would forever be at a disadvantage. Everyone would have their weaponry, but Henry would only have his fists.

With his head in his hands, he recalled the reasoning of his pact. His brother, his idol, his role model had shot himself with a hunting rifle. All their lives, they've hunted game and been around weapons. And a simple mistake claimed his dear brother's life. Henry hated weapons after that day.

He swore never to touch any ever again.

When he decided to attend the Peristylium Suzaku, they acknowledged his request to specialize in martial arts. As a child, he had always been restless and light on his feet. The admission staff accepted his request with no questions asked. He hoped that he would be able to keep his promise.

Henry looked at his bare hands. His whole body would be used as a weapon, but he didn't mind. Although he would be at a disadvantage against almost all foes, his mind would be at peace…if he managed to disable his enemies and fight them fairly.

Henry let out a long sigh. He would be starting from scratch all over again. This would going to be a _long_ training session.

* * *

><p><strong>Nine<strong>

Adam Harvenheit had been told fairy tales as a child. His favorite fairy tale concerned his family, who were said to be descendants of dragon tamers and legendary knights. And from then on, he knew he wanted to be a hero. He had begged his father to train him. Finally, his father Kain Harvenheit relented at last, teaching him the basics.

After Adam had mastered the basics, it had been decided that he should go off to the Peristylium to learn more. At first, Adam hated the idea, thinking of the snobby rich kids who enrolled and knew nothing of combat, but he later warmed up to the idea, thinking it might not be so bad at all.

At the gates of the magic academy, Adam told his father that he would never forget what was taught to him. Nor would he forget his father's black-and-white sense of justice. No, he would never forget that, but his mother...he would never forget her sense of fun. He had inherited her knack for teasing the coldest of hearts and encouraging friends to attempt great feats. His father always said that the academy needed people like that – to inspire a higher morale between troops.

Adam smiled as he entered the academy's grounds, checking out a couple of girls here and there as well as his competition. He wanted to be the best. He wanted to be a hero.

And a hero, he didn't know he'd be.

* * *

><p><strong>Jack<strong>

Erik Ashbrook happened upon the school by chance. Aside from his name and , he had no memory of his parents, any family, his own life, or how he learned to fight. He suspected that his parents had died young. All he had of them was the katana at his side. And on the blade, the name _Suzaku_ was etched.

And so he searched and fought his way into the school. He had broken in once and gotten caught by the guards – only to be captured and given a choice: become a student or be executed.

He chose the latter. And there he was, watching the new arrivals enter the gates, secretly hoping they could tell him who he was.

* * *

><p><strong>Queen<strong>

When she stepped through the gates, Evelyn Villetta had realized that she had nothing to lose. As the youngest daughter of a Baron, she had nothing to inherit either. Therefore, she had nothing to lose. And her father, Baron Lucian Villetta, was not too thrilled that his youngest daughter was going to a military academy.

She had a talent in swordsmanship and in the magical arts. Baron Villetta approved of the latter, but never the former. Her father often argued that young ladies should never raise a sword, but Eve often retort that this was not the medieval times. She was a beauty – a prize in many of the social circles.

And as an adolescent in the modern world, she refused to conform and continued with her swordsmanship. Evelyn was aware that she was quite skilled. In fact, she had joked that she could knock out her fiancé in a duel. An awkward silence followed after that dinner, but Evelyn had gotten what she had wanted.

Her fiancé, a son of a Count – she failed to remember his name – was speechless and looked uncomfortable at his soon-to-be bride. It seemed he hadn't expected his fiancée to be quite intelligent with a will of her own or skilled with a blade. Evelyn remembered the scolding she had gotten later that night.

With folded arms, she briskly entered the grounds, not even bothering to turn around. Her father was long gone. He was not happy that she would be fighting under the flag of Peristylium Suzaku instead of idly gossiping with other ladies of nobility.

This was her way of escaping, her way of seizing control of her life. Or so she believed.

* * *

><p><strong>King<strong>

Alexander Hargreaves, son of Earl Cain Hargreaves, was an orphan at the age of fourteen. Being educated in the ways of nobility, he trusted none of his family members for they merely wanted his father's money. Despite the words of hate pouring out of his relatives' mouths, he did not give in. Even when he was threatened with death or assaulted by assassins, he refused.

He relied on his excellent sense of sight and powers of observation to pinpoint assassins and surprise them. Alexander always came out unscathed from harm's way with at least a gun in his hand, always stolen from one who attempted to take his life. However, he could not say the same about the assassins.

He kept his inheritance and donated part to the poor, specifically to orphanages. He was lucky to have been born with some status to his name, but he knew if he hadn't been, he would have been in the same boat as them. He was lucky. So that was why he was so kind-hearted, despite his cold appearance. (It was said that his father was the same way.)

He entered the Peristylium to protect such people – orphans just like him.

* * *

><p><em>Thou art I…and I am thou…<em>

_Thou hast established a new bond._

_Thou shalt be entrusted with a sacred covenant,_

_Thou shalt take up thy new name_

_And thou wilt be saved._

* * *

><p><strong>Disclaimer: If I owned Final Fantasy Type-0, this would be the game canon. And I wouldn't even be posting this here.<strong>

Inspired by the social link system of the _Shin Megami Tensei: Persona_ series, lots of head canon involved in _The Arcana_. I don't believe that the trump names are their real names so I made some up. I definitely had a bit more fun writing some of these, but not all of them. This is definitely the longest chapter for this little piece since I plan for the rest to be snippets of their lives within the Peristylium.


	2. The Magician

_Attaining one's dream requires a stern will and unfailing determination._

**I. The Magician**

* * *

><p><strong>Joker<strong>

Lean Herakles was a child of two nations. Tensions ran high within his family with the blood of Milites and Rubrum coursing through his veins. His Militean father was murdered in cold blood for consorting with an enemy. A young child barely four summers old was left behind with his mother.

Soon after, at the age of nine, his Rubrum mother was taken from him. He was captured by many of his father's relatives to be tortured for having dirty blood. His parentage was of little importance to him, but to many of his other relatives, it was _everything_. Whips lashed his back; fists beat him until he was black and blue to the point where he was nearly unrecognizable.

His heart cried, as he was too young to learn such pain. And when he cried out, something answered him. As he heard the call and his heart kept praying, a strange power began to fester inside of him; it was a raw kind of power, almost uncontrollable. He grabbed his attacker, an uncle whose name he had long forgotten, and a ripple of magic was felt throughout the room.

By the fal'Cie, whatever magic Lean had called upon, it was painful to him to use, as it was to inflict upon his uncle. Lean was screaming, but his uncle's wails were almost deafening. It was then when he was rescued and brought into the care of one sorceress and her 'daughter'.

* * *

><p><strong>Tiz<strong>

Aisha Al-Rashia was a human crafted by the power of the sorceress Arecia Al-Rashia, a servant of the fal'Cie, Pulse. Given her likeness, Aisha grew to be a carbon copy of the sorceress herself although born with a very special soul. Pristine and obedient, she was the perfect daughter, following her mother's very whim – even when she asked to infiltrate an enemy estate to collect a boy.

"You must help your future partner," said her mother. And Aisha did as she was asked; after all, she was no ordinary child. None of her future partners would be, as her mother told her. And she did, at the age of nine, rescue the young Lean Herakles and discovered her untapped power.

With a single touch, she could steal life from others, but at a cost, as she would learn later on in her life.

* * *

><p><strong>Five Years Later<strong>

It would be today.

Arecia would assemble all _sixteen_ of them at the same place for the first time. All sixteen souls would come together. The pieces had been aligned from the beginning, leading up to this moment. And everything was falling into place.

"Lean, mask," reminded the daughter of Arecia. She stood tall, but her partner was still at least a foot taller than her; she looked of average weight with an average bust size, considering who her 'mother' was. Her dark curls were tied back into a ponytail over her red mantle. Her violet eyes seemed distant, but still there as if she was able to see beyond the ordinary. "Your new wounds haven't healed yet."

"You mean the ones you've inflicted on me, _Tiz_," her partner replied, rolling his emerald eyes. Despite the beatings he had been subject to prior to his rescue, he grew up to be decent-looking. His pointed nose was proportional to his profile. His cheeks were marred with deep scratches and scars from spars, but did nothing to shield his good looks. His lean body had no trace of flab, only muscle as far as the eye could tell. His dark hair shone bright under the autumn light. The Peristylium uniform was snug against his form; if he gained more visible muscle anytime soon, they would have to issue him a new uniform. "I'll be fine."

Scoffing at her new name, Tiz shook her head as she began to smooth out her uniform. "You were simply too slow, _Joker_."

Side by side, they walked, discussing their new class dossiers. Listing off all the names, Tiz named off every real name as Joker gave his comments. The closer they were to their meeting place, the quieter the pair became. Passing through people, they were receiving stares especially from their new classmates. And likewise, they found themselves looking at them as well.

Christopher Regis looked scrawny (as Joker earlier remarked on the way there). Siera Stadfelt made Joker uneasy about training; she looked as if she could fit into one of the Mage Classes instead. William Mariae looked too serious.

Amber Seras was a tiny little thing. Stephanie Joachim looked cute with her curled pigtail things. (Joker had no idea what to call them.) Iris Midna looked intimidating.

Victoria Evers seemed to be watching everyone, gauging each and every one of them. Henry Winchester was staring at his hands, but they had no idea why. Adam Harvenheit was grinning like an idiot, eager to learn about combat as they heard earlier.

Erik Ashbrook was smiling sheepishly at Adam as he retold the story of how he got into the Academy. Evelyn Villetta was another who looked too serious, but unnerved Joker. Alexander Hargraves appeared extremely bored. Machina Kunagiri and Rem Tokimiya were attached at the hip, but Rem was brave enough to venture out to speak with some of the other girls.

What a lovely bunch Mother had collected, Tiz thought to herself. Still, there was something about each and every one of them. Glancing over to Joker, who had turned to her as well, it seemed that they were both thinking the same thing.

They had both felt it.

A different light shone in thirteen hearts. The only heart that seemed similar to theirs was Machina, but he was something else entirely. From then on, it was obvious where the differences were.

* * *

><p><strong>The Results of Pain and Decrepitude<strong>

Pulling the hood over her head, she knew that this could be fixed by taking life, but there would be a point where she couldn't take that easy route out any longer. She would have to use her power sparingly as she had done so in the past.

Even in front of her partner, she was embarrassed by the price she had to pay. For a short period of time, she refused to openly show her face, not when she was like this, her face wrinkled and decrepit. And being loyal to the girl who saved his life, Joker followed suit, pulling his hood over his head, and sat beside her. "We'll should find you another who is trying to get information on our classmates. More will come."

Holding her hand over her face, she ignored what he said. She was too busy thinking of the others. They had only come together quite recently; they had yet to begin grooming everyone else into becoming the elite powers. The Milites Empire must already be paranoid if they had sent an agent out on a suicide mission to murder sixteen teenagers in their beds.

"To fulfill Mother's dream, we must be determined," Tiz mumbled. Her hands were dirty. As would theirs in due time. The other fourteen had to be primed for their future.

"And possess the strongest of wills." Joker groaned, glancing down at his arm. He couldn't believe that he inflicted that much pain upon their enemy and himself with just a touch. Reaching into his pants pockets, he pulled out his gloves and covered his hands. That way, he would unable to hurt his partner. "We will not live very long if that's the case."

"We need to protect them, Lean."

He took her hand into his and gripped it tightly. "I know, Aisha."

Tiz turned her thin hand over, her palm pressing against his and laced their fingers together. She squeezed his hand in response, but did not look at him just yet. "That is what Mother wants. And my dream is the same as Mother's."

* * *

><p>Author's Blurb: Hey everyone, guess who is finally updating <em>the Arcana<em>. Elia41's _Class Zero_ has been pretty popular. I was almost discouraged from updating this, but Tiz and Joker forced me to update and got me out of hiatus. I didn't write about Rem and Machina since their back-story is told partially in-game and in the Ultimania guide. Anyway, I edited the first chapter, switching Deuce and Cater because I originally got them wrong. I started this prior to the game's release and edited it before writing 'the Magician'. This will be the first in my wave of fan fiction updates and debuts of new 9Q fan fiction. So stay tuned!


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